Lower
Than Atlantis ****1/2*
Don
Broco *****
The
Dangerous Summer *****
Gnarwolves
*****
October
11th Electric Ballroom Camden
Rain.
Loads of it. Scene kids. Hundreds of them. Anticipation. Palpable. Cider.
Downed.
A
sultry, soaked Camden was cut in two by a huge queue of buzzing yoof clutching
all manner of luminous, toxic alcopops for one of the most eagerly awaited gigs
since the last king died.
The
house full sign had been posted weeks ago and the general energy and excitement
rivals Jimmy Savile’s if he’d stumbled into a wendy house or a One Direction
gig.
Anyway,
first up were pop hunk gruff bastards Gnarwolves. There’s already a decent
sized crowd waiting to be entertained and when the trio kicked off into the
fabulous shout-alongy (if not ludicrously short) History is Bunk, but most faces
look a tad non-plussed as the testicles out TNT-charged pop punky bombs were
launched into the room.
A
strange choice as support perhaps, but thankfully the crowd seemed to warm to
the guys after the initial dissonant shock. The set continued apace and drew
more bouncing heads with every grizzled, fierce fusillade.
There’s
a vibrant hardcore-esque revival (did it ever go away?) bubbling under the
surface at the moment and bands like Gnarwolves along with Polar, TRC, Real Adventures
and Palm Reader are leaving a trail of caved in faces and brutally kicked
genitalia wherever they ply their fine trade. And on tonight’s evidence, it
seems to be set to gain a wider audience. Which can only be a good thing in the
eternal fight against the anodyne, predictable and manufactured.
The
Dangerous Summer *****
Talking
of which, next on the Royal Variety Performance are The Dangerous Summer. Not
familiar with their work, I was curious and willing to be impressed.
Bugger.
A
sugary, tight, limp MOR melange was all they could drum up. A watery mix of
Death Cab For Cutie, Nickelback and Creed with no guts, balls or edge. A
muscle cock replacement powerful sportscar with a remote controlled car motor. A bottle of overproof Bourbon with tea in
it. An oiled up, super flexible porn actress with saggy tits and a disappointingly huge hairy minge (Think
Omar from ATDI up to his neck in quicksand). Disappointing. Lame. Meh. Shame,
cos they drew a much bigger crowd than the excellent Gnarboys.
By
now the cavernous Ballroom was packed from its head to its anus. It’s hard to
imagine that it’s this rammed for a support act. But what a support act.
Monsieur Duce and co must have thought they were on relatively safe ground
asking the Bedford Babe Magnets to open for them when the tour was
conceived 6 months or so ago. Don Broco have been treading the boards as a
regular support act with everyone from Futures to Four Year Strong and have
been staples on the festival tour. So they’d do a great hors d’oeuvre job. Get
the juices flowing. Set the appetite nicely. You know, a prawn cocktail. Or
Whitebait.
But
my how they’ve grown. Since they were invited on the bill, the sublime
Priorities Album has dropped, they’ve signed to Search And Destroy, had more
positive press coverage than Mother Teresa and Princess Di put together. So
there must have been a wince or two in camp LTA as Heston Blumenthal showed up
with the starter at their own dinner party.
The
set is pretty much all culled from the new album (with the exception of a brief
tease of Beautiful Morning before the surprise drop into the always chaotic and
fabulous Thug Workout – press up boys ‘n’ all). There is just so much swagger.
So much fun. And so much talent. Theses guys have developed such wonderful
stagecraft to complement their ridiculously good songcraft but, even allowing
for hilarious synchronised moves, lunges and leers they never come over as
arrogant or contrived. Just bloody nice blokes having a bloody good time. And
producing bloody good music.
Despite
the baying of LTA from the dripping full house for a good 10 minutes before the
band’s arrival, you couldn’t help but be a little nervous for Mike and his
gang. It’s irrelevant at moments like this, that they’re clearly one of the
very best young rock bands in the land; after seeing what Don Broco had just
done, it’s got to play on your mind and effect your manhood.
Thankfully
there was no need to worry. No performance anxiety here. Despite a tiny initial
sound problem, Mr Duce is monumentally and throbbingly erect as the four piece
tear into the wonderful Love Someone Else. And the crowd play the supplicant
and ridiculously moist bedfellow, cumming loudly and spectacularly with every
distorted thrust.
The
sexual gymnastics continue throughout drawing climax upon climax from the
insatiable nymphomaniac throng. There is so much love in the room. So much
lust. So much passion. Brilliant tracks from the masterpiece new album Changing
Tune dovetail beautifully with old favourites like Far Q and (Motor)way of life.
The gorgeous Dear Prudence joins the boys for the beautiful and haunting Scared
of the Dark before the main set ends with like the deep droning and brown noise
peppered surefire classic Normally Strange.
It’s
rare to see such a brilliant performance from such a brilliant, original band.
But tonight I’m proud and privileged to have been in the presence of two. And
judging by the Beatlemania-like reception for LTA and Don Broco this evening, I
don’t think I’m alone in feeling like that. Spine tingling.
Wish
I smoked. Need a fag now.
The always fabulous Yearbook
and Straight Lines up next.
More
tunes soon. Bwooooar!
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